


In the Early Morning Light

by nonbinaryjamesbarnes (kittleimp)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angel Wings, Artist Steve Rogers, M/M, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6001261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittleimp/pseuds/nonbinaryjamesbarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This tiny little thing is dedicated to the amazing <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ever_rising_sun/pseuds/the_ever_rising_sun">Soph</a>! Happy Valentine's Day, lovely!</p><p>Reading her fic is not necessary to understand this one, but it's some really nice, sweet smut in the same universe, so please check it out!</p><p>Some extra context: In this universe, Steve never had a chance to enlist, but Bucky did. He lost his arm in an explosion while serving. They met after Bucky came back.</p>
    </blockquote>





	In the Early Morning Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_ever_rising_sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ever_rising_sun/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Behave](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991547) by [the_ever_rising_sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ever_rising_sun/pseuds/the_ever_rising_sun). 



> This tiny little thing is dedicated to the amazing [Soph](http://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ever_rising_sun/pseuds/the_ever_rising_sun)! Happy Valentine's Day, lovely!
> 
> Reading her fic is not necessary to understand this one, but it's some really nice, sweet smut in the same universe, so please check it out!
> 
> Some extra context: In this universe, Steve never had a chance to enlist, but Bucky did. He lost his arm in an explosion while serving. They met after Bucky came back.

Steve's artistic preference is realism; that much is obvious to anyone who has glanced at his sketches throughout the years. Moments of his life are captured in graphite scratched confidently onto the paper of countless sketchbooks, now mostly piled into the waterproof tote that sits in the corner of his closet. Even the last sketch he ever did of his sleeping mother is drawn truthfully. Every wrinkle and weary shadow brought on by sleepless, sickly nights is reflected on the paper, even though his tears dripped onto the drawing as he worked. Pretending things were different would not have done her justice. His art is a record of the truth.

 _Truth_. Bucky calls to question the very meaning of the word.

Steve looks from his sketch to where Bucky is laying naked on the bed, still sleeping peacefully with the early morning sun at his back. There's something missing. Sure, he has captured the curve of Bucky’s hips, defined further by the white sheet draped over his waist, providing unnecessary modesty. He has also managed to get Bucky's torso just right. That was hardest part, trying to properly draw how Bucky has his right arm tucked under his body and the stump that is his left draped lightly over his toned chest. It doesn't worry Steve; he will get better at drawing Bucky’s unbalanced form as time goes on. He has already memorized every one of the scars scattered over Bucky’s left side, after all.

Bucky’s head is finished too, as is every detail of his features. His thick eyebrows are eyes are relaxed and his eyes closed, leaving his long eyelashes to brush against his cheeks. Those soft, pink lips Steve loves so much are parted ever so slightly. Bucky isn't drooling this morning, thank God, but then again Steve wouldn't give a damn if he was. He loves those little quirks too. One of his favorites is the way Bucky’s long, straight hair frizzes and waves in the night, leaving it in the messy state when morning comes. He has already drawn that as well.

_So what is missing?_

When the thought finally comes to Steve, he barely spends a second considering it before he begins to add to the sketch. Bucky, with his war-torn body and scarred mind, has already changed Steve's world, so why shouldn't he change the definition of truth as well? Each gentle stroke of Steve's pencil only cements the fresh realization: truth is not always what you can see, but sometimes what you know in your heart.

When the addition is finished, Steve sets his pencil aside. The wings sprout from between Bucky’s shoulder blades, though that fact is hidden due to the angle of the picture. From there, they become impossibly huge, easily as tall as Bucky’s sleeping figure. The ends of his feathers would drag on the ground if he were standing, Steve imagines. As it is, the feathers simply drape across the bed, wings lying limply while Bucky rests. They may not be visible when Steve glances up, but he can feel the truth in his heart.

Bucky is an angel.

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on [tumblr](http://summerpacifist.tumblr.com)!


End file.
